the hill

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the hill

is his place of comfort

its plush green grass provides a seat unlike any other

soft

warm

cool

it is all that he needs it to be

 

from this spot he watches

 

he watches as the sun slowly starts to hide itself

vibrant green leaves change to red

before falling into piles that dampen your foot

or crunch with every step you take

he watches as the snow fall blankets his world

and covers the tops of the buildings in the city below

 

he watches children chase each other

sprinting ahead at the last minute

 

he watches as traffic stalls in the city

horns blaring and beeping

echoing through the sky

 

when he’s on the hill

he acts as a sponge

soaking in the world around him

continuing to grow

learning how to get by in the world around him

 

each day he descends from the hill is stronger

a better version of himself

and he tries not to let that fade

as he joins the masses on the streets

 

he feels

alone

until the heavy wood door clunks behind him

whisking up an aroma of aged wood and fresh bread

and he feels once again what it is like to breath

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